


Arsonist's Lullabye

by dragongirlG



Category: The Perfection (2019)
Genre: (Zhang Li does not get abused in any way), Fire, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Minor Character Death, POV Child, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-19 08:42:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22341502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongirlG/pseuds/dragongirlG
Summary: Miss Charlotte and Miss Elizabeth rescue Zhang Li from a burning Bachoff Academy. Miss Paloma and Mister Anton don't make it out. (Set after the last scene of the movie. Zhang Li point of view.)
Relationships: Elizabeth "Lizzie" Wells/Charlotte Willmore (implied)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Arsonist's Lullabye

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hozier's ["Arsonist's Lullabye"](https://youtu.be/XoQvbDROucQ). It was too perfect not to use.

Zhang Li wakes to the smell of smoke.

With a frown, she fumbles in her nightstand drawer for the pack of breathing masks her parents had insisted on packing for her, slipping the straps over her ears as she sits up in bed. The clock next to her reads "2:00 AM", numbers and letters glaring red in the dark.

Zhang Li sighs and stretches, lifting her arms high above her head. They're still sore from the practice session with Mister Anton earlier that day. She tucks her feet into her fuzzy slippers, which were a gift from Miss Paloma, and then she pads over to the window, pulling back the thick velvet curtains. Outside, snow covers the bushes and lawn, its white glow reflected in the bright light of the lamp post that illuminates Bachoff Academy's front entrance.

Zhang Li loves the snow. She never saw it in China. 

Two sets of footsteps pound up the stairs—neither of which sound like they belong to Miss Paloma. Zhang Li turns to face the door, heart pounding anxiously against her ribcage. She jumps when the door slams open and Miss Charlotte and Miss Elizabeth burst in.

"Zhang Li?" Charlotte calls, sounding frantic. She looks—different. Her dress is black instead of red, and her hair has been shaved off. That's enough of a shock, but then Zhang Li looks down at Charlotte's left arm and sees—

Nothing. It's gone.

Zhang Li gasps, horror flooding through her veins.

Charlotte's eyes narrow. "Zhang Li? Come on out."

Zhang Li steps forward, trembling.

Charlotte's face softens.

"It's okay," says Elizabeth, speaking up for the first time. She crouches down, holding out her hand. The edges of her white dress brush the ground. "Come on, Zhang Li. We need to get out of here. The building's on fire."

Zhang Li almost doesn't register the words, too caught up in staring at the space where Charlotte's arm should be. But then the smell of smoke gets stronger, and something crashes loudly in the distance.

"Zhang Li," says Charlotte, her voice taking on a firmer tone. "Let's go. Now."

Zhang Li nods and hastily grabs the pouch sitting on her nightstand, slipping it around her waist. It contains her passport, a red envelope of full of American cash, and her favorite good luck charm—a jade figurine of an ox, her zodiac animal. She's glad she followed her parents' advice and kept the pouch near her all the time.

Elizabeth helps Zhang Li up from the floor and takes her right hand tightly. Charlotte takes her left. Together, they guide her down the stairs and through the hallway to the front door. Smoke stings her eyes, and behind the mask she coughs, her breath dampening her chin. The temperature gets hotter and hotter.

The front door is starting to warp. Charlotte kicks it open with a shout as Elizabeth snatches some coats off the fancy wooden rack nearby. Tears stream out of Zhang Li's eyes as the wind howls and cold air cuts at the exposed skin of her hands.

"Did you call the fire department?" Charlotte asks.

"Should be coming," says Elizabeth.

"Let's keep going till we're outside of the gates."

"Coats first. It'd be a shame to die of hypothermia after coming so far."

Charlotte tosses a coat to Elizabeth, then drapes a fancy fur one around Zhang Li's shoulders. It smells like Miss Paloma's perfume.

Zhang Li shoves her arms into the lined interior and asks, "Where's Miss Paloma? Where's Mister Anton? And—and—" She can't remember the names of the other two men, the ones that she's scared of because they're so tall and big.

Charlotte's mouth twists as she shrugs into her own coat, the bright blue bandage around her elbow stump disappearing into the dark folds of fabric.

"We told all of them them to meet us outside," Elizabeth answers, her face shadowed by the hood of her puffy coat. "I'm sure they'll be out soon."

They continue their journey down the driveway. Zhang Li doesn't dare to look back.

A fire truck with a wailing siren arrives at the gates at the same time they do. An ambulance arrives shortly after—and then the police. Firefighters swarm toward the building as police officers hustle Elizabeth and Charlotte away from Zhang Li, firing questions in English too rapidly for Zhang Li to follow. A paramedic pulls Zhang Li toward the back of the ambulance, checking her heart, her lungs, her skin. She must follow their instructions well enough, because they leave her alone and head toward Elizabeth and Charlotte.

Miss Paloma, Mister Anton, and the other two men don't ever come out. Bachoff Academy burns to the ground in front of Zhang Li's eyes.

* * *

Eight years later, the scandal breaks, lurid headlines splashed on the front page of news websites in big, bold font:

> _Bachoff Academy headmaster Anton Webber raped, molested dozens of star students;_
> 
> _Bachoff Academy associate director Paloma Giacomo recruited female cello prodigies into sex cult;_
> 
> _One-armed cellist wonder pair Elizabeth Wells and Charlotte Willmore make statement on Bachoff scandal;_
> 
> _Was it an accident or arson? Five theories on the mysterious burning of Bachoff Academy_

Zhang Li sits in a practice room at Juilliard, resting her cello between her legs as she scrolls through the articles on her phone. She closes her eyes, thinking back to that night, and breathes out, wondering.

**Author's Note:**

> This story popped into my head and wouldn't let go. I guess it broke my writer's block?
> 
> Comments, kudos, and transformative works are always appreciated! Please let me know what you think; I would love to hear from you.
> 
> Come say hello: [Tumblr](https://dragongirlg-fics.tumblr.com/) | [Dreamwidth](https://dragongirlg.dreamwidth.org/) | [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.social/dragongirlg)


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